In the month that followed, I did see Mathew often. It was hard to be avoided, but it was almost always at a distance, across the room at a large gathering. When this happened, we would nod and smile at each other, but neither made any effort to seek the other out. Once we sat at the same table at a dinner party in a restaurant. We spoke politely when it was unavoidable, but only on the most impersonal subjects.
I spent Christmas with William and Margaret. Their two children were home from school for the holidays, and with snow on the ground, gifts under the tree and a sumptuous turkey dinner, the day passed pleasantly enough. Still, I was glad to get back to my quiet apartment.
In early January I managed to get through the first anniversary of Richard's death. Although the weight on my heart was heavier that day than usual, when it was over, I felt as though I had passed an important milestone, and the tears I shed that night when I gazed longingly at his photograph on the bedside table before turning out the light were not bitter.
There was a concert for a young Korean cellist which particularly I wanted to hear. so I decided to attend, so my dear sister Margaret, who preferred More active pursuits than sitting in a darkened theater listening to music, had offered me her own seat in that concert.
As I locked the door of my apartment and walked down the hall to the elevator, I thought how grateful I was that this was one affair, at least, where Margaret agreed with me that I didn't need an escort.
I wondered, waiting for the elevator if I should drive or take a cab. it had been raining steadily for days, with no sign of freezing, so perhaps it would be safe to take my own car. Still absorbed in my inner debate, when the elevator doors opened I was dimly aware that there was another person inside. Then I heard a familiar voice say good evening to me. I jumped a little, then looked up into the amused grey eyes of Matthew Smith.
I hadn't seen him for some weeks and was surprised now at how tall he seemed. He was wearing a coat over a dark suit, and looked tanned and fit, as though he'd been in the sun over the holidays.
'You look as though you're pondering a weighty matter', he said as I stepped inside.
I laughed. 'Oh, I was. I'm trying to decide whether to take a cab to the young Korean cellist or drive. What's your opinion'?
'Don't tell me', he said. 'William's seat'?
I stared at him. 'Oh, no', I groaned. 'You too'? He nodded gravely.
'Damn Margaret!' I muttered. 'I thought she'd given that up'.
He smiled. The elevator had reached the ground floor, and we stepped out into the Lobby and faced each other.
'I suppose she didn't provide you with an escort for the evening'? He asked. 'Odd, I was invited alone too'.
I almost gnashed my teeth I was so angry. 'One day I'm going to murder that sister of mine'.
'You could be wrong, you know', he said musingly. 'William gave me his ticket he knows I like music. It could just be a coincidence'.
I glared up at him. 'Do you really believe that'?
He shrugged. 'It's possible'. He seemed to be amused at the awkward situation. 'Well, I just won't go', I announced and turned to punch the elevator button.
'Oh, come on. What's the harm'? He asked. 'Are you ashamed to be seen with me'?
'Of course not', I replied. 'It's not that'.
'Actually, I'm probably a lot safer than other charming young men your sister provides'.
I laughed but I'm still not going. the elevator door opened and I started to step inside. Mathew put his shoulder up against the elevator door to hold it open. 'Come on don't you like Music'?
YOU ARE READING
When Jennifer buried her love the time stopped and she was no longer alive. What the benefits of life for a woman who lives without a heart. When she met Matthew Smith she read the story of her Sorrow in his eyes. A tormented man haunted by the gho...